Chimera
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Firebase Chimera had been a Confederate base on Mar Sara during the Great War. Later, under the Dominion, it was converted into Chimera Base. A mix of old and new. Walking through the base in the aftermath of the zerg's attack on the planet, Nova knew the feeling.


**Chimera**

What got to Nova more than anything else was the smell.

The bodies of the dead and dying, she could handle. Given her record, she probably had a trail of bodies behind her stretching light years. Dead bodies, even those who'd been torn apart by the zerg, she could deal with. The wounded, the ones lying in the trenches of Chimera Base, she could likewise deal with, by letting the medics do the actual dealing, otherwise known as healing, mercy killing, or "status pending." And the zerg? The creatures of nightmare which had spilled across Mar Sara mere days ago, and likewise nearly overrun Chimera Base? She didn't have a problem with that either. Thousands of zerg bodies littered the battlefield, said bodies either being burnt, hauled off, left to rot, or some combination of them. There was never such a thing as "too many bodies" for the zerg, for better or worse.

But there was no escaping the smell. That smell that was common to every battlefield, but for whatever reason, aplified here. The smell of gunpowder. Of blood. Of burnt flesh. Of napalm, white phospherous, and a smell she couldn't even identify. She didn't have a helmet, so there was no escaping it. Like always, it was the marines who'd taken the brunt of the fighting, but at least they could do the dying in a climate-controlled power suit. Though, she reflected, as she passed one poor sod puking into his helmet, that had its disadvantages as well. She-

_Agent (No.), please report to command post for debriefing._

...didn't have any more time to take in the sights and sounds of a war that was just beginning, and could be over just as quickly, and not for the better. The adjutant of the _Bucephalus _had called her. When it called, she answered. Perhaps there was irony in that, doing the bidding of a machine like some kind of cog in the wheel; as if she were a machine herself. As if she was exactly what the Dominion wanted her to be. Either way, it didn't matter. New mission, new murder. At the least, the command post would get her away from this damn _stench_.

She walked quickly. Here and there, she got flashes of thought from the marines around her. If she made the effort, she could filter them out entirely, but their thoughts weren't telling her anything that their body language wasn't already. Exhaustion. Relief. Fear. Fear not only of the zerg, and what their return after four years of silence meant for the Dominion, but fear of her as well. Turned out that even after irradiating overlords, painting spore crawlers for an armoured division, and calling down a nuclear strike wasn't enough to put you in the good graces of some people. Which, she told herself, suited her just fine. More they kept their distance, quicker she could move. Quicker she moved, the quicker she got to the command post. And being kept at arm's length was much more preferable to-

"Hey, tough guy."

...this.

"See you're alive and kicking. Well, walking at least."

Nova came to a halt. The hatch to the command post was just ten feet away from her, but between her and climate-controlled bliss was a marine lying against the trench wall. One that was looking up at her, his helmet missing, the right side of his face covered in blood, and his left leg bleeding from a trio of needle spines.

"More than I can say for myself," he said, patting his leg with his hand, and wincing as a result.

Nova couldn't help but smirk. "Might not want to do that."

"Hey, it's a free planet, I can do what I want here."

He hadn't changed from the dropship ride, Nova reflected. Not that many people changed in the space of a few hours, unless one counted a cessation of breathing (in which case, she could change things very quickly). He'd been with the black ops unit she'd touched down with. One who'd accused her of "loner crap" on the way down, and promptly had what was left of his dignity handed to him on a silver platter. What was his name again?

"So what you up to?" he asked.

Listor? Lister? Listener? Probably not the third one, but you could never tell. Especially not with Omega Squadron, which tended to recruit for brawn rather than brains.

"Fine, don't answer. I get it." He began to rub his leg again, and Nova felt a stab of pain enter her mind. Not hers, but his - unfiltered raw thoughts reacching her id. She walked on past and put a hand on the door hatch, before giving the marine one last look. He was alive, but probably not for much longer. He'd survive today. He might even survive the week. But when it came to war, and especially against the zerg, only the bravest or the luckiest lived long.

"You should really get that looked at," she murmured. He looked up from his leg, but not wanting to give him any ideas, asked, "where's Sergeant Sacker?"

He made a gestured with his hand, pointing upwards.

"The sky?" Nova asked.

"No. Battlefield. Dead, somewhere. I think. Hell, I dunno."

Nova bit her lip, and after a moment of hesitation, entered the command post. Barely caring as to the sound of the marine's whistle, and the unfiltered thoughts of _damn, that's a nice arse. _Mind wipe or no, she'd forget him soon. And he'd probably be dead.

Closing the door, she took a breath of the filtered air. Not completely clean - no air on this dustball was - but far removed from the stench that permeated the battlefield outside. She looked around, finding computer terminals that were more than a decade old, and pinned-up maps that were decades older. For added measure, there was even the faded image of a Confederate flag on one of the walls. Which made sense - Chimera Base had once been designated Firebase Chimera, and had been manned by the Confederate Marine Corps in the war four years ago, when Mar Sara was the second terran planet to fall to marauding aliens. Unlike four years ago, the Dominion had held where the Confederacy hadn't, and mouthless aliens hadn't appeared in lightning ships to incinerate the planet. She supposed she should be greatful for that. But reaching out to the old flag, running a gloved finger down it...

"Takes you back huh?"

She closed her eyes and made sure to not read the C.O.'s mind. "Could say that."

"You with the old Confederate Ghost Program?"

She smiled and looked around. "That's classified." _And I don't even know how much I could tell you._

Lieutenant Strepp smirked. Unlike most of the marines she'd encountered today, he looked happy to see her. She supposed that manning a gun turret, protecting a SCV, and unleashing an armoured division on zerg could make such a man inclined to her. Or maybe the codpiece of his armour wasn't doing its job. Either one of those things.

"Hmm." He walked over to the flag. "CMC myself y'know. Never saw action on Mar Sara or Tarsonis thank God. And never thought I'd be serving what used to be Public Enemy Number One, but, here we both are." He looked at Nova. "Chimera. Probably noticed, but the base lives up to its namesake. What comes from trying to turn a firebase that was half-glassed into a full-fledged one."

Nova said nothing. She'd noticed how haphazard Chimera Base had been, and she also knew about the mythological creature behind its namesake. A monster more bizzare than anything even the zerg had created, before being struck down by Bellerophon. A hero the Dominion could really use right now.

"Anyway," Strepp continued, "we-"

"Where's Captain Buck?" Nova asked, putting old myths and heroes to the wayside. "He should be here."

Strepp frowned. "Put that moron in command? No thanks."

She couldn't disagree with the assertion, but also knew that command chains existed for a reason. "Captain's decisions aside, he should still be here."

"Maybe. But heads have to roll, and what better than his?"

Nova glanced back at the Confederate flag. _Whose indeed? _she wondered.

What had transpired on Mar Sara had been a disaster. Open rebellion spurred by Raynor's Raiders, followed by a zerg invasion that had cut a swathe through Dominion Space. Operation Burnout had followed, which on this part of the planet, had resulted in deployment in force of a marine company. The zerg might have left Mar Sara as quickly as they'd appeared, but some had been left, and in the ensuing battle, hundreds had died as a result. If UNN started toeing the line, Operation Burnout would be portrayed as a victory. But she, and every other Dominion soldier on this planet would know the truth - today had been a FUBAR. And not one the Dominion could afford. Fitting then, that she find herself in the shadow of the Confederate flag - for all the things the old Confederacy had been known for, competence hadn't been among them.

"So why am I here?" Nova asked.

Strepp gestured to the tac-table in the centre of the room. "Transmission for you. Eyes only." He looked down at her, his brown eyes meeting her greens. "Didn't specify if that was the natural eye thing or the whole ocular implant shit."

She tapped the side of her temple. "Only have eyes for some people Lieutenant."

"Well, that's nice to know."

"Not really. The people I have eyes for tend to end up dead."

His smirk faded and he nodded. "I'll be outside," he murmured, before heading out of the command post.

The door closed with a 'clang,' and Nova was left alone. Just how she liked it. She activated the tac-table and a hologram of General Horace Warfield sprung to life.

"Agent No.," he said.

"General." She put her hands behind her back and stood to attention. "How's the homefront?"

"Secure, thanks to you."

"You give me too much credit sir."

Warfield didn't say anything. He just stood there like a knight of old - towering above her, clad head to toe in power armour that could have defeated an entire company of Earth's knights by itself. Only honour and chivalry didn't count for much in the Dominion, even if men like Warfield tried their best to hold to some code of honour.

"So what's the situation on Mar Sara?" Nova asked. "Chimera Base is secure, but it's a big planet."

Warfield frowned. "Zerg are mostly gone," he said. "We've been dealing with stragglers. Most of them had turned tail by the time we showed up."

Nova frowned. "I believe Captain Buck thought that sir. Good men died as a result."

"The captain will be dealt with in due time. But before that time, let's acknowledge that he was partly right. Zerg didn't invade Mar Sara to take it."

"Then what _did _they come for sir?"

Warfield glanced aside. "Intelligence is still piecing that together."

Nova knew that she couldn't read the general's mind. He was atop a battlecruiser in the planet's stratosphere, so distance prohibited. That, and numerous Dominion Military Code regulations, not to mention that even if she was face to face with him, he'd have access to a psi-screen as well. Even so, she tried to read him as any non-teep would. Eyes. Mouth. Face. Body language, even obscured by his CMC armour. Tried, and didn't get much.

"But enough about Mar Sara. We have other matters to discuss."

"You mean a new assignment, sir."

"Of course." The faintest hint of a smile appeared on Warfield's lips, before they faded. "The KLF have taken the Fujita Facility. Turns out that when the zerg invade the Dominion, it's a perfect opportunity for rebels to do some invading themselves."

"The Sons of Korhal taught the sector well," Nova murmured.

"I'll have a shuttle come get you, then you're taking a ride to Vyctor Five on the _Sirius_. By the time you arrive, we'll have more intelligence available."

"For me to take out rebels when the zerg are rampaging across Dominion Space."

"We all have our orders, Agent No. Those are yours."

"And your orders, sir?"

"To give you yourorders. _Bucephalus _Actual out."

The hologram faded, leaving Nova in the gloom. She leant against the tac table and closed her eyes, yawning. The battle had been taxing, even when she'd mostly been on the sidelines. Infiltrating a KLF base should be a walk in the park, all things considered. And, considering all those things, she knew that her role as a Ghost would be more suited to succh a mission.

_No rest for the wicked then, _she thought, as she headed for the exit, before glancing at the old image of the Confederate flag. Chimera. The word came to mind. This base had been named after it, and the Confederacy had been felled by is own chimera of corruption, alien invasion, and rebel insurrection. Question was, would the Dominion fall likewise?

She headed for the exit.

Her orders didn't involve asking such questions.


End file.
